


Sleepless long nights (That is what my youth was for)

by osmsauce



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:45:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7352221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osmsauce/pseuds/osmsauce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But I never see you anymore.” And it's like a terrible cliche straight from those romcoms that Harry not-so secretly loves. “There's also an 8:15am; they haven't changed the timetable in over 10 years. Dublin can wait.”</p><p>AKA a week in the life of domestic Hartwin, more than a few years in the making.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kissingandcrying](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissingandcrying/gifts).



> The prompt: Harry and Eggsy have multiple children (all toddler age or baby age) and they manage to balance spy life and domesticity (I just really like domestic fic).
> 
> a/n: I had the names and ages instantly picked out... Only much later did I notice that I skewed the age limits. Sorry! Hope you still enjoy.

...7:38am...

With a groan, Harry wakes up bleary-eyed, stretching to unearth the wooden building block that’s wedged from between his lower back and the mattress. He curtails the jaw-breaking yawn threatening to escape as he takes in the peaceful tableau next to him: Eggsy spread eagle on his back, little Mathilde between them with her face buried into the side of Eggsy’s neck, his shirt collar a wet, rumpled mess from her drooling mouth. And there’s JB at the foot of the bed, panting heavily against Eggsy's ankle.

The downstairs shower is being turned off, which means Lee has been up for a half hour already, school uniform no doubt laid out and waiting on the bed. Harry can hear the programmed tea kettle begin to announce itself downstairs, makes to get up and begin the breakfast that Lee will be expecting in the next 15 minutes, when Eggsy rests a hand on his arm, cradling the still sleeping Mathilde close to his chest.

“Mornin' stud.” 

Harry huffs a quiet laugh, so as not to disturb the little one. “Oh I see how it is, now. You have your wicked ways with me, and nothing so much as a parting kiss?” Eggsy mock-sighs. Mathilde makes a grumpy noise, and Harry doesn’t blame her, all three of them having been up most of the night dealing with her tummy ache. It finally settled enough around 3am, but Matty had refused to release her grip on Eggsy’s neck, so they had collapsed on the bed all together.

“Shh,” Eggsy nuzzles into Matty’s cheek, sits up and faces Harry proper. “I’ll just take a personal day, yeah.” Harry doesn’t answer for a moment, transfixed by the lovely man before him. How the hell he ever convinced Eggsy to fall in love with him, he'll never understand. Oh he knows _how_ , Eggsy is constantly telling him all the ways that he says he couldn't stop loving Harry even if he tried, but Harry still can't believe it. Even after all these years it's a struggle to imagine that he deserves this little slice of happiness. 

Eggsy tilts his head, eyes bright, hair a touch sandier and newly greying than it was 14 years ago, still breathlessly gorgeous. “Love?” His smile is soft, warm, and Harry can’t help but lean in for the good morning kiss he’s already been encouraged to give.

Their lips fit perfectly, Harry’s hand finding the back of Eggsy’s neck, anchoring him. Eggsy lazily rucks his leg up between Harry's, and Harry's hands wander to Eggsy's lower back, both pressing in their own mindless, instinctive ways. Three minutes (hours? lifetimes?) pass before Matty _harumpfs_ bodily from where she’s caught between them. “Hey, none of that, you.” And their room is filled with high, unsteady giggles as Harry tickles her mercilessly in retribution.

“Harry! Stop!” Eggsy is laughing as he turns his body away from Harry’s long reach, gripping Matty closer protectively, “She might still be feeling a bit off, yeah?”

Palms up in defeat, Harry rises fully and walks to the ensuite, conceding with a sigh over his shoulder: “Duty calls, I’m afraid, darling. I have a shipment of this gorgeous blue wool from Italy that’s weeks overdue, and Mr Greenstreet has an appointment at 3.”

Eggsy tucks a still sleepy Matty back into the bed in a little cocoon, already having decided he’ll let her stay home from daycare. He might say it's to keep an eye out for her, make sure little Miss is all better and all. But really it's for his own peace of mind more than anything.

"Don’t you have a debrief with Merlin this morning?” Harry calls out.

Eggsy hums, “Might do. But I can call it in. Have some research to finish on that Dublin case that I can do just as well from home.” He waves Harry’s protests off, even though Harry isn’t looking at him, Harry knows he’s doing it regardless.

“I’ve got Henry, too. No worries. Mum is working, but Rox got in from Cardiff last night, yeah? We’s got plans to visit. She'll come if I need the extra hands.” Harry comes out at this, toothbrush lodged in his mouth, brows still furrowed in concern. He says nothing, but his eyes speak volumes. While he was never good at hiding his feelings from him to begin with, Eggsy's gotten stupid good at reading him after all these years. “Love, it’s no worry. We’ll have a grand time!” Eggsy kisses Harry’s cheek, adjusting the baby monitor on his way out into the hall.

Just in time, too, as he can hear minute snuffling from the nursery next door. “Hen-ry…!” Eggsy singsongs to the 15 month old in the crib the next room over. He dodges Matty’s toys on the floor of the nearby toddler bed, reaches in to run a finger along the soft fuzz of his baby son's face. Eggsy's wide smile mirrors his son's perfectly.

“There you are, love. Good morning.” They continue to coo at one another much in the same way until warm hands wrap around Eggsy's stomach, clasping at his middle.

“Good morning, sweet Henry,” Harry says softly, while he nudges Eggsy's neck with his nose. They sway together for a while, wrapped up in each other, Harry rubbing his thumb across Eggsy's belly, nosing into the side of his face. Eggsy hums low in the back of his throat, eyes drifting closed. 

“Did I interrupt, dearest?” Harry whispers coyly in his ear. Henry gurgles some more as his parents look on in awe, stealing back their attention. “How did we get so lucky, then?” 

Eggsy turns around in the circle of Harry's arms to answer. “Fucked if I know,” he says, fingering the delicate remains of Harry's scar along his temple. “But I can't tell you how glad I am.” He graces Harry with that considering, soft smile again.

“Go before Lee starts bellowing--”  
_“You're late starting breakfast again!”_  
“Oops.”

Harry kisses him quickly once more before hastening downstairs, where their irate 8 year old is standing in the kitchen, hands on hips, lip in full pout (if it were possible, Harry would swear Lee had inherited that from Eggsy).

“Oi. Be nice to your da.” Eggsy says from behind, walking downstairs with Henry in the crook of his arm.

“Poppet, I'm sorry. Though you should be blaming your papa for distracting me.”

"Ew, I don't want to hear it.” Lee's face scrunches up in that brand of disgust that's unique to preteens everywhere. “Do we have time for pancakes?”

It's a wonder Harry can keep up with how fast Lee changes tracks of thought these days. “Premixed, yes. We'll make Grandma Hart's famous waffles on Sunday, alright then?”

“Yes, please!”

Harry preps the griddle, as Lee goes about her morning chores: setting the table for breakfast, and measuring out cups and cups of kibble for the array of pets this household has acquired over the years (Oxford and Brogue the dynamic goldfish duo, Purrlin the Great Feline Escape Artist, Arthur the hammiest hamster you’ll ever meet, and we all know loveable -- and now just a bit geriatric -- JB), while Eggsy settles Henry in his high chair, who’s clutching his bottle contentedly.

They've settled into an easy routine over the years, not having changed much even with the gradual addition of the babes. It shouldn't work, but it does. This house that Harry never realised was too empty, too quiet, until it wasn't anymore. Now more of a home than it ever was.

Having cleaned up post meal, Harry gathers his things and meets up with Lee, who’s been growing ever more impatient at the door. “Come _on!_ ”

Harry is tempted to move a tad slower, but Eggsy tuts behind him. “Your wool shipment, ‘member? See you later, love.”

…12:05pm...

By noon, Eggsy has two loads of laundry already folded. House is hoovered. Matty had finally woken, poor thing, and is eating the pancakes that Harry had put aside for her earlier. She's watching some telly from her high chair and Henry is enjoying tummy time in his playpen. Eggsy finally sits down to do that research he promised Merlin at the end of their debrief, an hour earlier. But first: “Oh, verrry nice.” Harry is reverently holding the [famed Italian wool](http://www.mrporter.com/en-ca/mens/kingsman/blue-harry-slim-fit-double-breasted-wool-suit-jacket/707561?ppv=2) up for Eggsy to see.

“I know,” Harry sighs happily on the other side of the phone.

Since the accident at the church, after countless surgeries to correct his vision and physio appointments to regain his strength and just a miserable year made only better with Eggsy steady at his side, it was a crushing blow to his ego to never be fit for field duty again. Cut down in his prime, it wouldn't have been bearable had Dagonet not taken him under his wing in the shop, saying _Familiarity was best_ and even more often _Do shut up Harry, you'd hate being Arthur._ Turns out Dagonet was right, and Harry was trained up for a second career that suited him like a glove, if you'd forgive the pun. He never expected this to be his retirement plan, but then again, he never expected to make it to the ripe old age of 64 years, either.

Harry promises to Eggsy that he'll save a few bolts of fabric specifically for him, and Eggsy promises to come in for a _private_ fitting when his Dublin mission is over.

They sign off with excessive xx’s and oo’s because Harry will deny Eggsy nothing, and Harry goes back to his inventory until Mr Greenstreet arrives, then eventually leaves happy. Harry decides to bunk off early as a result, leaving the shop’s closing in the capable hands of his assistant Jude (as if a nephew of Dagonet's could be anything less). Having a family waiting at home has done wonders for Harry's punctuality in some ways, at least.

…5:12pm...

Shrieks of joy greet him when he opens the front door, JB’s barks mixing in with peals of laughter as Roxy chases Matty around the room. Purrlin is surveying her subjects with disdain from her perch on the chesterfield in the sitting room. “Feeling much better, I see?” He teases pointedly, putting his umbrella in the stand, toeing off his oxfords, hanging his jacket in the closet. He normally neglects this last bit, to Eggsy's great chagrin. Who knew Mr Harry Manners Hart was a veritable slob? Or, had been until little eyes began cataloguing his every move years before.

Eggsy just shrugs at him while Henry joins in by clapping his hands from his position perched on Eggsy's hip. “Da da da!”

Eggsy beckons, “I made lasagne. Come.” After too many years spent condemned to solitary spy life, he's a sucker for Eggsy's excellent home cooked meals as much as he is Eggsy's inviting smile. All in all, both retirement and domestic bliss have been an utter disaster to his waistline.


	2. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to split this fic into chapters, but I'm still not happy with the narrative flow. Sorry.

...7:55am...

Harry doesn't wake up with a block in his back, but there's a wee fist resting across his bad eye. Seems Matty crawled into their bed sometime after they'd both collapsed in another exhausted heap the night before.

He can hear Eggsy singing off-key in the shower, Henry gurgling in the other room. He can't hear Lee until the combined giggles tip him off that she's playing an early morning game of hide and seek with her little brother. He closes his eyes again until Michelle's deliberate key scratchings rouse him minutes later. 

...1:12pm…

He's rearranging the shop displays with Jude sometime that afternoon when his facetime chirps at him, and Michelle waves Henry's little fist for him to see. “Babe, say hi to daddy!”

Harry loves these daily check-ins, and thrills to see Michelle interact with Henry like this. He imagines this is what the first 5 years of Eggsy's life might have been like. In fact, Michelle had not too long ago finished the nursing degree that she'd put on hold in her grief, and regularly babysits when her schedule allows. Mrs Jasper from next door picks up the slack other days, or Henry comes to the makeshift nursery at the shop when necessary. He's still too young for Matty's daycare that all the techs and handlers bring their little ones to, and they're fortunate enough they can make do. Kingsman has made a lot of concessions for their staff’s families, and have updated quite a bit since his time, but there's ways to go still.

“Can you pick it up on your way home, Harry?” Harry nods at Michelle's request, shaking off his previous daydream.

“Of course, Michelle. See you round 6.”

“Bye bye Da da!” Henry coos toothily, and Harry smiles, quickly corrects himself, “Better make that 5."


	3. Wednesday

...6:22am...

It's not a block this time, nor a tiny fist, but a kiss that wakes him up, and he smiles into it with his eyes closed. “Good morning,” he says against very familiar lips, reaching up to keep Eggsy there above him.  
  
“No no no,” Eggsy admonishes. “No time. Merlin wants me on the 7am train. The Dublin op is happening today, love.”  
  
Harry growls, refuses to loosen his grip on the back of Eggsy's neck. “But I never see you anymore.” And it's like a terrible cliche straight from those romcoms that Harry not-so secretly loves. “There's also an 8:15am; they haven't changed the timetable in over 10 years. Dublin can wait.” And Eggsy almost misses that train, too, because while Harry will deny Eggsy nothing, he knows he's been terrible for Eggsy's punctuality.  
  



	4. Thursday

...8:06pm...

And so it goes much the same way, in that Harry is miserable without Eggsy by his side, Lee is worried her papa will miss her talent show tomorrow afternoon, and Matty is refusing to eat her vegetables. Henry is perfect, because he is. Except Harry did proactively shove a frozen[ teething necklace](http://www.toysrus.ca/product/index.jsp?productId=45537016%20) in his hand soon as he got home from the shop. It might look like a set of [anal beads](https://www.groupon.com/deals/gg-rooster-perfect-10-silicone-anal-beads%20), and Eggsy will definitely laugh his ass off when he sees it, but desperate times and all that.  
  
Daisy had popped by to give her eyes a break from studying for her GCSEs, and was currently making airplane noises with the dinner spoon in her hand. Matty didn't look convinced, but her complaints had stopped at least.  
  
Eggsy has called for his customary goodnight check-in that they had established years ago when Kingsman business took him out of town -- only if it's safe, only if you're safe, etc -- though the fact that Eggsy hadn't facetimed instead worried Harry some. “I thought this op was solely recon at this point?” Harry asks with some caution, and Eggsy laughs self deprecatingly as if expecting just this. It simultaneously warms Harry's heart and raises his ire.  
  
“Don't worry, love, I’m too tired to wash off my disguise… I just wanted to hear your voice is all.” Knowing Harry’s penchant for thinking the worst (because as a lil shit himself, Harry knows what trouble his husband _could_ get into with very little effort), he stresses this next bit: “Really, though. I'm _fine._ ”  
  
They sign off again with copious xx’s and oo’s, Daisy pantomiming gagging behind him. “Get a room, you two.” Harry thinks he knows where Lee is getting her material from, now.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't buy sex toys from groupon. Finding that link made me laugh...but it worries me, too.


	5. Friday

...8:10am...

Eggsy still isn't back and Harry is lying in bed, hoping he's had the last fitful night for a while with the promise of his husband's return. Matty is wrapped in his arms, still blissfully asleep, and they’ll have to wean her off co-sleeping soon enough, but for now he'll take what comfort he can get.  
  
He can hear Lee's methodical footfalls as she readies herself for school, and he hasn't even looked over at the clock on the bedside table -- he already knows breakfast will be late, he can't help it.  
  


…7:12pm...

He has no idea when she picked up all this tailoring knowledge: pinning up the pants on the almost good enough to be bespoke suit her young assistant is wearing, as she schools the crowded auditorium on best suit care etiquette. It's a wonder that will never cease for him, how bright and talented his children are. Eggsy grips his hand tight, and confesses in his ear, “She idolises you, love.” He marvels at everything she's managed to take in from his irregular dinnertime ramblings.  
  
Michelle is quietly sniffling on his left, Matty rapt with attention in her lap, and Henry is somehow napping in Daisy's arms on her other side.  
  
The auditorium rises to their feet with amused but no less vigorous applause once Lee and her assistant take their bows. They sit through one more magic trick, a Hamilton song medley, and a youth band performance that has some dads rocking out hard, until they're free to leave.  
  
Harry can't stop praising Lee, and she squirms away from his hugs to grandma's side, instead asks if they can sleep over hers, because, she confides: “Yeah I love him, but he is sooo embarrassing.” Matty can't stop chanting “Grandma!” And soon Henry is trying to say it, too.  
  
Which leads to Harry and Eggsy having a night alone when they have nothing planned, nothing beyond a queue full of _Crazy Ex-Girlfriend_ to watch, and ever more clothes to be washed. And it's perfect.  
  
They race upstairs, shedding shirts here and there as they climb, and burst into their shared bedroom with three days of pent up tension needing to be acted on, and the glorious prospect of no little ones getting in the way. Eggsy pushes Harry onto the bed, gloriously naked and on full display. He looks his fill at this gorgeous miracle in front of him, making Harry squirm at the intensity of his gaze.

“I fucking love you, yeah?” He finally says and pounces, licking right away into the heat of Harry's mouth. They grab and pull at each other greedily and Harry flips their position, Eggsy easily going with him. “Yes?” He's near breathless with a particular considering look in his eye. The possibilities tonight are endless.

You might think it's a shame they don't get to do much beyond some fantastic marathon snogging and all the hugs that Harry could never deny his Eggsy, but after 14 years, it's everything to just fall asleep tangled comfortably in each other. In fact, it's the best that either has slept in days.  
  



	6. Saturday

Finally they fuck. A lot. The house is too quiet, so like the adults they are, they vow to make up for the lack of noise best they can. By the time they're done, Eggsy can't remember if his limp was from the bad tumble he took on that chase in Dublin, or as a result of getting much too excited over that thing Harry just did with his suit ties. They spend an ungodly amount of time sanitising most flat surfaces in the house -- double the time a Saturday clean would take as they can't seem to keep their hands off each other -- before they're back in bed, wrung out by 8pm as a result. And it's perfect.  
  



	7. Sunday

...8:18am...

Michelle drops the kids off early, because Lee says her dad promised her waffles today. It had been too long since she had caught both her son and son-in-law unawares and starkers, and she's glad to see them so rested, if not embarrassed beyond words.

Much as she'd love to stay, Michelle can see that her boys need to reacquaint themselves with their babes. She remembers that feeling: the alone time together is great and all, but the house must have seemed empty without them.

Little Henry is patting Eggsy's face, happily repeating “Da da da” over and over, Matty is showing Harry the drawings she and Daisy worked on last night, and Lee is carefully stirring the from-scratch waffle batter under Harry's guidance. Tomorrow Lee will be yelling at him for being late again, but today (and tomorrow and the day after that, if he's honest) is just perfect. Harry wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> I find it scary how this could easily have gone mpreg. Or am I the only one.


End file.
